


Quiet, for Years on End

by wolfy_writing



Category: Invaders (Marvel), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Namor the Sub-Mariner (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfy_writing/pseuds/wolfy_writing
Summary: They were his lighthouse.Namor with the Peterson family.





	1. Chapter 1

"Excuse me miss, are you okay?"

The woman turned to him. _"Namor?"_

He blinked.That word sounded familiar, but it wasn't in any language he knew. 

(He could remember...portions of several languages.Fluent German, Russian, French, good Chinese,more Latin than people typically learned these days, enough Japanese that he'd briefly thought it might be a clue to his identity, and a couple of languages that he hadn't been able to identify.

One was soft and rich in vowels, and led to him searching the stacks of public libraries for information on the languages of the Pacific Islands.It turned out he recognized a good deal of Gilbertese and Samoan, but they weren't the language he was looking for.The other language ....he couldn't find _any_ evidence of a language made up of gestures, clicks, and long whistling calls, but he _knew_ it in more detail than he could explain.

It was the language of his thoughts.)

"Namor, what are you doing here?"

"You know me?"After all this time, had he finally found someone who _knew_ him

Was he that lucky?Was it that simple?

"Of course I know you!"The woman stared at him."I'm Nae!"She shook her head."You wouldn't recognize me after all this time.Namor Peterson?You remember me?My father named me after you."

"I don't remember anything."She'd been named after _him?_He'd been _that_ important to someone before he ended up on the streets?

She frowned.

"I mean it," he said."I don't remember _anything_."

"Namor, did - " she clutched her belly and moaned. 

"Can I help you?"

"The baby's coming.Take me...home," she said."Namor, take me home."

He nodded."We should go quickly."He scooped her up in his arms and started flying."Just show me the way."

She nodded and pointed. 

He let her lead at first, but then something in his mind clicked, and he found himself going automatically, anticipating her directions. 

He _knew_ this.For the first time that he could remember, he knew where to go.

-

Nae pulled a face as they reached the front door, and let out a sharp little hiss.She was having a brief pain every fifteen minutes or so.He knew that meant the baby was on its way, but beyond that, he wasn't sure what to do.

He pulled the front door off its hinges.

"I was getting the key out!" Nae said, in an annoyed voice. 

"Sorry."He'd been worried.

He led her to the living room couch, where she sat down heavily, and sighed.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Find a doctor," said Nae."Everett Blake's our family doctor."She gave him directions."Dad's probably out by the sea.I'll call the VFW just in case."She leaned over and reached for the phone on the end table.

"You'll be okay on your own?"

She nodded."I think there's a little time."

"It'll be okay," said Nae. "Namor, please, go get the doctor."

Namor flew.

-

When he made it back, Nae's father was home. 

"Namor!"The man turned. "It's really you!"He paused."I'm Randall Peterson.Nae said you don't remember anything?"He frowned searchingly staring at Namor's face.

"Wait?" asked Dr. Blake."Namor?As in _the_ Namor?From World War Two?"

Randall Peterson nodded."It's fine.He's a family friend.He rescued my little Nae when she was alone in the city and needed help." He gave his daughter's hand a squeeze.

"But this can't be Namor!He looks like he hasn't aged a day since the war!"Dr. Blake gave Namor an inquisitive stare.

Namor glared."Don't waste our time, Doctor.Help Nae!"

"Of course," said Dr. Blake."How far apart are the contractions?"

-

After that, things were intensely busy.Namor was sent back and forth between their home and town, given fistfuls of money by Randall to buy items ranging from Vaseline and suction bulbs to some sort of infant garment called a "onesie", and a teddy bear.

(It had been a long time since Namor had held that much money at once.He'd counted himself lucky if he had enough money to eat his fill and sleep indoors on any given day, and Randall Peterson had casually trusted him with enough that he could live on it for a week.)

Randall, when he wasn't checking in on Nae, or giving errands to Namor, stood outside, pacing and smoking.

Nae would let out brief pained cries, followed by encouraging words from Dr. Blake.

Finally, they were all invited in.

-

Nae was tired, and damp with sweat, but with a contented glow, as if she'd accomplished some challenging feat of strength.

Which, Namor realized, she had.

In her arms was an infant, smaller than Namor had ever seen. 

"Is...is the baby healthy?" Namor asked.They couldn't possibly be _meant_ to be that small.

"Perfectly healthy," said Dr. Blake."Just a hair under seven pounds, which makes him smaller than average, but well within the safe range.Good color, good lungs, fingers and toes all accounted for."

Randall moved closer to Nae.

"Meet your grandson," she said. "Little Roman Peterson." She looked up at Namor and smiled. "I wanted to name him after our family hero, but I thought having three Namors in the same house might be confusing."

"Thank you," Namor said."I'm honored."

Dr. Blake frowned."Randall, can I talk to you?"He gestured.

Randall nodded, and they stepped out of the room, closing the door.

Out in the hall, they spoke in low voices that Namor was probably not intended to overheard. 

"Are you sure it's safe to have Namor around a child?"

"I hope so, considering she's a mother now."

"You know what I mean!I mean I understand why you'd...feel grateful to him after the war, but he's dangerous!"

"Not to us," said Randall."Not to my family."

"You have a newborn in the house! Do you want to risk it?"

"If there are two things I can be absolutely confident of," said Randall, "it's that Namor would never harm a child, and that he would never harm our family."

"You're risking your grandson's life on this!"

"I'd sooner trust my grandson's life to Namor than to any other man I know!"

Nae looked at Namor. "Dr. Everett doesn't know how good your hearing is?Don't worry about him.Come here." 

Namor walked over to the bed.

She held up little Roman."Want to hold him?"

Namor sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully took Roman into his arms.

"Hello little one," he said, in the language he knew from his thoughts."Welcome to life in the world.May you grow like a whale, mighty, fearless, and wise."

Nae laughed."You keep that up, he's going to be speaking Atlantean before he can crawl."

"Atlantean?"

"The language you were speaking."

"Atlantean."Namor smiled.

Nae gave him a concerned look."You've really forgotten _everything_ haven't you?"

Namor nodded."We'll talk later.Only happy subjects in front of Roman on his first day."He tapped gently on Roman's little nose. 

The door opened.Dr. Blake and Randall were looking at Namor.

Dr. Blake still looked worried.

But Randall was smiling.

-

Later that night, while Nae and Roman were sleeping, Namor and Randall sat out on the front porch.

"So, where have you been?" Randall asked."I mean recently.As much as you can remember."

"I've been...around," said Namor."Doing this and that.Sometimes people need day laborers.And I'm strong."Things had been relatively good recently. He'd been on a streak of getting enough work that he'd been able to get a room nearly every night.He'd even managed to get clothes that were good-quality enough that strangers didn't stare at him on the street.

It was better, being by the sea.Fishing, longshoreman's work, anything that kept him near the water.

He was less likely to become confused, or lose his temper.Which meant things were less likely to end badly for everyone.

(There had been...more difficult times.Times when he was more likely to sleep on cardboard than a bed.Times when most of his meals had come from garbage cans.Times when the police were picking frozen bodies off the sidewalk in the morning, and is was only his inexplicable immunity to hypothermia that kept him alive.

He did not want to talk to Randall about those times.)

"Damn right, you're strong," said Randall.He chuckled briefly."So just...drifting?"

Namor nodded.

"And you don't know what happened to you?"

Namor shook his head.

"How long ago was this?How long have you been living like this?"

Namor shrugged. "A long time, I think. The earlier memories are still foggy. I have had periods of...confusion. Being near the water helps."

Randall nodded."Right.You always did better after being in the water.My wife, she used to joke that half the reason I picked this place was because it made you happy."

"You have a wife?" Namor asked.

"Had. She passed away."

"I am sorry."

Randall nodded. "It was a while ago. I have Nae. And Roman." He smiled. "And now you, for as long as you're willing to stay."

"Thank you," said Namor."I would not wish to be burdensome."

"Never."Randall took Namor's hand."You wouldn't remember this, but you're, well, you're family.And with Roman...one thing I learned when Nae was little is that the ideal number of adults to look after one small child is three, including one who has superhuman strength and endurance.Stay as long as you want.We want you here."

Namor nodded."You have my profound gratitude." He had, this morning, been hoping to find enough casual work that he could afford both a good dinner _and_ a place to sleep.

Instead, he'd found people who knew him.He'd found a name and some indications of a past.He'd found hope that he could do more than struggle from day to day, with no answers. 

And, it seemed, he had found a home.


	2. Chapter 2

_Atlantis is a kingdom under the sea, _Namor read._It is inhabited by aquatic humanoids. Little is known about the kingdom, and they do not have diplomatic relations with land nations, and have not communicated with the outside world in many years.Prince Namor of Atlantis fought alongside the Allies during WWII. _

There was a photo of Namor.He looked, despite what Dr. Blake said, younger.It was subtle, but the face was smoother and more open, and, although it was hard to be sure in a black-and-white photo, the hair seemed to be a lighter shade.

_The former capital city of Atlantis, also known as Atlantis, was in Antarctica, in the treacherous waters of the Weddell Sea.Recent expeditions reveal the city has been abandoned, and the whearabouts of the population are unknown._

The people has either left the city, or died.In all of the decades Namor had been absent, they had not made contact with the surface world. 

Were there any left?

Was Namor alone?

He gripped the table to stave off a surge of anger and despair. 

Then he stood, calmly and carefully, set the book down, and walked out of the library.

Once outside, he ran towards the shore near Randall's house.As soon as he was out of sight of other people, he flew.

He dove into the water, letting the coolness of the sea dull the heat of his rage.He swam ferociously, pouring all of his energy into it, until he was far from shore.

He stopped and lifted his head.He could not see anything but ocean in any direction.The rage had quieted. 

He looked around, then dove down. 

The water was deep.It was rich in fish, with some transparent jellies, and, as he dove deeper, larger, toothy sharks. 

He did not see any people.

He let out a long, whistling call."Hello?"

But there was no reply.

-

"Out for a swim?" Randall asked.

Namor nodded.His clothes were dripping wet.He was coming to dislike the inconvenience of wearing so many clothes."I was angry."

"Did the water help?"

"It did," said Namor.He turned to Randall. "Why am I so angry?"

"I don't know.What were you angry about?"

"I read about Atlantis at the library.They said they were missing.It was unclear if any still lived."

"That's an understandable thing to be upset about," said Randall."Even if you don't remember them, they're your people."

"I was not merely upset," said Namor.He sat down on the chair by the fire, chin in hand."I was furious.Rage comes easily to me.It is frightening how quickly it comes.As strong as I am, it takes very little carelessness to wreak enormous destruction."

Randall nodded."That's difficult.You seem to be under control when you need to be, though.And like you said, being in the water helps.I know back in the war, if you'd been out of the water too long, you'd get confused, impulsive, and bad-tempered.Well, more bad-tempered than usual."He smiled."And just getting water on you didn't seem to be enough.It helped you bounce back physically, but to be really at your best and most even-tempered, you needed a good long swim.Maybe you should make a habit of that?"

"What was I like during the war?" Namor asked.

Randall looked thoughtful."Proud," he said."Hot-tempered.You could be playful, and you had a sense of humor, although not everyone got it.You cared about people more than you were willing to admit.I think you were worried about looking soft and sentimental in front of the surface-dwellers, but you would get attached to people.You saved my life.After water, you were...calmer.A little sad at times.I think that, like all of us, you'd seen too much.You seemed to be happy here.You were always good with Nae when she was a child."

Namor nodded. "I do not remember being that man."

"Give it time," said Randall. 

"What if it never comes back?"

"Then you have a place here for as long as you want.I've known men who lost their memories in the war.Bad blow to the head, usually.Some got theirs back, some didn't and had to build new lives.If it comes to that, remember that we're family and we'll stand by you.But for now, give it time."

-

It started with an image of a face.A woman's face, with high, arched eyebrows, framed by soft curls. 

Namor found himself sketching idly, trying to capture the face. 

"Who is she?" Nae asked.

Namor looked down. "I think I knew her." He peered at the face. "Dorma? Randall, did I mention a Dorma?"

"I don't remember her."Randall paused."Wait, yes, a distant cousin.You said she seemed attached to you.I never met her, though, so I kept confusing her with Namora."

"Namora!"Namor felt something click in his brain."Nae should have been named Namora."

"I didn't name her after Namora," said Randall. "I named her after you."

"Why should he have named me Namora?" Nae asked.She was pacing and walking Roman, trying to settle him down.

"Namora means Avenging Daughter.Namor means Avenging Son."

Nae sighed."On top of everything else, it's a _man's_ name?"

"Could you try not to get me in trouble, Namor?" said Randall.

"You're the one who decided to give me a weird name that no one else has, which is also a man's name," Nae said.

"You're an adult," Randall replied. "Change it if you don't like it."

Nae shook her head."Roman's not settling down.Namor, can you take him for a bit?"

Namor stood and took Roman."I'll be back shortly."

-

Namor took little Roman outside, gripped him carefully, with gentle firmness, and began to fly.

Roman calmed down immediately.He seemed to find flight wondrefully soothing.Nae had been the same way at his age.

Namor paused....Nae had been the same way.He remembered her, first a tiny baby, and then a giggling toddler, clinging to him and going, "Higher!Higher!" as he flew.

He remembered.Something had started to come back.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated on the feeling of flight, trying to recall something else.

...a memory, a long time ago, holding someone in his arms.His mother?She had been injured, and he had carried her.He'd been just a boy, and he'd saved her. 

Namor opened his eyes. He'd flown higher than intended. Much higher, and Roman could catch a chill.

He lowered himself to the ground.

Nae stood in the doorway."How is his?"

"Sleeping soundly," said Namor."Just like when I took you flying when you were small."

Nae looked up at Namor in surprise."You remember," she whispered in a hushed voice.

Namor nodded."I'm beginning to."

-

It was several nights later when the first nightmare started.

There was a boy, skeletal and bereft of hair.His stomach was distended, and his ribs showed through the skin.

Namor was trying to feed him canned milk.But every time the boy started drinking it, he doubled over and fell sick.

Namor cast around for more milk, good fresh fish, or anything that would make the boy healthy and strong.He found some of the surface-world chocolate, a food both rich and sweet enough to tempt the weakest of appetites.

He fed the boy a piece.

The boy took the chocolate in his mouth, holding it to let it melt.

Then he clutched his belly and howled in pain.

"Stop it," said a voice."You're killing him!"

Who was the voice?Were they _mad?_The boy was starving!He needed hearty food to regain his strength! 

He put another piece of chocolate in the boy's mouth.

The boy stared up at Namor with wide trusting eyes.He took the bite of chocolate.

Then he died.

-

Namor was awake when Randall rose in the morning. 

"You're up early," said Randall. 

Namor shook his head."Bad dreams."

Awake, he had a good guess about the meaning of the dream.He'd absorbed enough history on the surface world to understand the events of the Second World War. 

The Holocaust.The concentration camps. 

Some had made it to the end of the war, only to die when Allied soldiers, attempting to be helpful, had given the survivors richer food than they could handle, and killed them with clumsily-aimed help.

"What was the dream about?" Randall asked, making coffee.

Namor tilted his head. "At the end of the war, the liberation of the camps..."

Randall nodded."Yes, that was...bad.I've had my share of nightmares."He paused, staring off into the distance."The smell.It never leaves you."

"Was there..."Namor drew a breath."Was there a boy, who I tried to feed?A boy who sickened and died?"

"That happened to most of us," said Randall."Don't blame yourself.We didn't have a good understanding of what starvation does to bodies.Steve...Captain America, he was hand-feeding people his own rations that first day, with no idea of what he was doing to them."

"But there _was_ a boy," Namor said.

Randall nodded."You tried your best.If you could save people by caring hard enough, or by wanting to help strongly enough, that boy would be alive today.But you didn't know.None of us knew."

They sat in silence for a while.

In the distance, Roman cried.

They both started to rise.

"Do you want to take him?" Randall asked."I think he's about due for a bottle of milk."

Namor hesitated, then shook his head."I think it would be better if you fed him tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Roman took longer than Namor expected to learn to walk, although Nae insist he was right on schedule.(Apparently babies took longer to walk on the surface, where they had to push themselves upright against gravity.)

And then, in a flash, Roman went from a few tottering steps to running everyone's legs off. 

"Easy there," said Namor, catching Roman before he managed to smear any more food on the walls."I think you've made enough of a mess today."

Roman turned to Namor, smiled, and held up his sticky hands."Namor, sea!"

Namor picked him up, then looked at Nae. "What do you think?"

Nae nodded. "I think one of us needs a nap, and unfortunately, it's not Roman."She yawned. "Bring him back by three for his snack."

Namor nodded.One of the few luxury gifts he'd accepted was a waterproof diving watch, which let him go out to sea and come back on a human schedule."I'll bring him back, and get him cleaned up, too."

"You're an angel," said Nae. "I don't know how people who _don't_ have a Namor deal with toddlers."

Namor took the happy, sticky toddler, and carried him out to sea.

-

"I got you a present," said Namor.

Roman looked up."Present?"

Namor pulled out a pair of swim goggles, just Roman's size."These let you swim with your eyes open.You can see the sea."

"See sea?"Roman reached out for the goggles.

"Let me put them on."Namor put the goggles on Roman's head, pulling his hair out of the way. "There, now you're ready."

Roman beamed.

-

Namor swam slowly, careful not to jostle Roman off his back.

Roman's tiny sticky fists clung to Namor's hair."Down!" he said.

"Not yet." Namor was going to find the best spot. They were too far from any corals, but there was a nice kelp forest. 

"Here we are," he said at last."Hold your breath."

Roman closed his mouth and filled his cheeks with air.It was some affectation of surface-world children, and Namor didn't understand it.He thought it made them look like pufferfish.

Gently holding onto Roman, Namor went down.

They were only down briefly, a matter of seconds, but enough time for Roman to get a glimpse of the waving kelp.

"Trees!" he said, as they breached the surface. 

"Kelp," Namor gently corrected."It's a plant, but a different kind of plant."

Roman shook his head."Trees!"

"Kelp," said Namor. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Roman nodded. 

Namor smiled."Want to see something really special?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Say please, the way I taught you."

Roman paused a moment, then let out a long whistle.It wasn't quite perfect Atlantean, but it was the best Namor had heard from a surface-dweller. 

"Very good," said Namor."Let's go see a shark."

-

The shark was a beautiful shortfin mako, migrating seasonally as the waters warmed.Namor could have watched it all day.

Roman's eyes widened beneath the goggles, and his mouth opened.

Namor took him up immediately.They were _barely_ below the surface, so they were in the air in an instant.

Roman coughed, then looked at Namor and began to cry.

Namor held him and patted him on the back."It's okay," he said."Just breathe."

Roman let out a few more coughs, then cried briefly, and settled into Namor's arms."Big fish."

Namor nodded."Shark.That was a shark."

Roman lifted his head and looked at Namor."Shark eat me?"

Namor shook his head."I wouldn't let it."

"Shark eat you?"

Namor laughed."It could try.No, I'm stronger than a shark.I'm stronger than anything in the sea, and I wouldn't let anything hurt you."

That seemed to work.Roman smiled."Namor strong!"

Namor hugged him."And I will always protect you."

-

Not long after that, Roman started learning to play catch.First rolling little balls, then throwing them and yelling "Catch!" in an enthusastic voice.

"Good arm on that kid," said Randall."I could see him playing football in high school. Maybe we've got a little QB!"

"My bet's on the swim team," said Nae. "With Namor's influence, how could he not be?"

Randall laughed.

Namor didn't laugh.He watched Roman throw the ball.

-

Later, when Roman was down for a nap, Namor took on of the little plastic balls outside and began throwing it.

He'd always found throwing things on the surface world easy.Compared to launching an object through the water, it was barely any effort at all.

But then, he'd gone for force and distance. 

Now he was trying to throw the ball as gently as he could. 

It was difficult, at first.On his first attempt, he split the ball and put a dent in a backyard tree. 

Resolving to get Roman a new ball, Namor picked up a rock and threw it as gently as he could. 

After a while, he saw Nae watching him through the screen door. 

She said nothing.

Namor continued.

It took the better part of an hour, but by the end he had it. He could throw a pebble into one of the tulips in Nae's garden without denting the flower petals.

If he could throw that softly, he couldn't possibly damage Roman's soft toddler skin.

He went back inside, holding the broken ball."I damaged this," he said."I will get him a replacement."

Nae nodded.She still said nothing, but as she took the ball, she smiled.

-

Randall had just turned on the television when Namor sat down.

"You want something?" Randall asked.

"I want to watch football," said Namor. 

"You like football now?"

"I want to understand the game."

Randall nodded.He scooted over on the couch.

Namor sat down and watched the television intently.This game was very confusing.The objective was to get the strangely-shaped ball from one end of the field to the other, and options included running while carrying the ball, or throwing it to another teammate that was further down the field.Kicking happened intermittently, but only at defined times.There was a time clock, which stopped frequently, so the game took far longer than Namor first assumed.

After a while, Randall began explaining details of the game, what position each player held, and the meaning of each "play". 

The QB was apparently the quarterback, a player with a leadership role when it came to scoring points.

Two days later, Randall went into town, and later that evening, a library book on football appeared on Namor's bed.

Namor read it cover to cover. 

It would, Namor understood, be years before Roman developed any real interest in football, or other surface-dweller sports.And years more before he had to worry about matters like making the high school team.

But Namor wanted to be ready.

He was planning to be here for a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you always have wings?" Roman asked.

Namor shook his head."They grew in when I was fourteen."

"Will I get wings when I'm fourteen?" Roman asked."That's..." he stopped and counted."Seven years."

Namor shook his head."You won't."He corrected himself."I mean you probably won't."There'd been news reports of surface-dweller children born with strange abilities.

"That's not fair!" Roman pouted."I want wings!Why can't I have wings?"

"Most people don't have wings," said Namor."I'm different."

"Different how?"

"I'm a prince of the sea."

"I wanna be a prince of the sea!", said Roman.

Namor knelt down and smiled."And a fine prince you'd be.I would take you down to the palace and teach you to ride sharks."

"I wanna shark!"

"You have your shark." Roman's toy shark, named "Shark" in High Atlantean, was one of his favorite toys.

"No, a real one!That I can ride!I wanna be a prince and ride a shark and live in the sea!"

"I am sorry," said Namor."I cannot give you that.I would if I could."

Roman started crying.

Randall popped his head in. "Everything okay?"

"He is sad because he cannot be a prince of the sea, and ride a shark," said Namor.He spread his hands helplessly. 

He had no idea what to tell Roman.

"I'll take care of it," said Randall. He picked Roman off. "Come with Grandpa for a bit."

-

"Are you like Superman?" Roman asked.

Namor laughed."Superman isn't real.He's just from a comic book."Roman's ninth birthday was soon, and he'd developed a fondness for comic books and superhero cartoons.Nae was practicing trying to figure out how to draw Superman in cake frosting.

"You were in a comic book."

"That's right," said Namor. "But it was a long time ago." 

Apparently Randall kept several of the old wartime comics.Namor had looked through a few, after he'd regained his memories.

Several things about the comics were inaccurate.And they'd put racist words into Namor's mouth.He'd hated the government of Imperial Japan, and the atrocities they'd perpetrated, and he'd unrepentantly killed Japanese soldiers, but he held no more hatred for Japanese people than for any other surface-dwellers.

Some of them were...kind.

(_"Half-breed?", the old woman asked, but there was no malice in it._

_He'd shrugged."I don't remember._

_"Probably a half-breed.That would explain the color of your eyes."She scooped him a bowl of soup."Here.It's not much more than boiled weeds, but that's all I have.The ration system is a mess.Stay away from cities.People will starve."_

_"Thank you."He took the soup, and started eating gratefully.Then he reached into his kimono, and pulled out a broad gold arm bracer._

_He'd been wearing gold bracers when he'd come to in the ruins of Nagasaki, along with a small green...undergarment?He'd hidden the bracers when he scrounged the kimono.They were, he suspected, real gold, and he didn't want to fight to protect them. _

_The woman looked at it, then shook her head."No, you will need it.Tomorrow, if the bomb sickness doesn't get you, then you can pay me back with work.Chop wood, catch fish, something fair."_

_She grinned."If you die, tell your spirit not to haunt me for taking the gold off your corpse."_

_He nodded, and finished his soup.)_

Besides, the comic had him saying it was "mistake of nature" that he had slanted eyes.He would never say that. The shape of his eyes was _perfect_.

"Superman is an alien," said Namor."I'm from the sea."

"Like Aquaman?"

"I don't know about Aquaman," said Namor. 

"He's one of the Superfriends, along with Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.People think he's stupid, though.He can breathe underwater and talk to fish.Can you talk to fish?"

"Not really," said Namor."Fish aren't intelligent enough to communicate with on that level.I can...mentally command them, to an extent."Octopuses tended to be intelligent, but were mostly loners, and if you didn't command them _carefully_, they would wriggle out of doing what you wanted.Sharks had a bit of personality, as did rays.Sea mammals were more intelligent, but tended to be clingy and demanding. 

"Like Aquaman!"Roman's eyes went wide."Can you teach me?"

"I don't know if your mind sends off the correct signals.It's not like speaking Atlantean."It was more...logomancy?And for logomancy, blood was often significant.

Roman gave a brief, annoyed click.

"Where did you learn that word?" Namor asked.

"You say it sometimes when you're mad."

"Don't say it in front of your mother," said Namor.If she knew Roman was swearing in deep Atlantean, she'd be furious.

"Why not?"

"It's not polite."

"Okay."

They walked a little way.

Roman looked up at Namor."You're really strong and you can fly.Are you fast?'

Namor nodded."Faster than a sailfish."

"A sailfish?"

"Fastest fish in the sea.But I'm faster."

"If you got shot, would bullets bounce off you?"

Namor nodded."This has happened several times."

"Can you shoot heat rays out of your eyes?Or blow freezing breath?"

Namor shook his head.

Roman tilted his head."So you don't have _all_ the powers of Superman and Aquaman put together.But you're better than either of them."

"I would hope so," said Namor.

Roman took his hand."You're _my_ superhero, and you're the best one there is!"

-

Roman waited until he and Namor were alone on the beach before he asked, "Are you my father?"

"No."

"Could you be?"Roman looked down and scuffed the beach sand with his toe."I know my mom loves you, and you live with us already, so you could get married, and then you'd be my father."

Namor shook his head."That would not work.Your mother and I...we do not have the kind of love that is appropriate for marriage."Namor did not think Nae had those kinds of feelings for him, and he knew that how he felt about her would always be influenced by remembering her as the little toddler who used to run through the garden. 

"It's just sometimes the other kids tease me about not having a dad.And I know, having a Namor is _better_ than having a dad, but I can't really explain that, because no one else has a Namor."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Namor."My father...was not around when I was a child.He and my mother were separated before I was born."Namor had heard contradictory stories about Leonard McKenzie, and was not sure of much beyond the name.But he knew that _Roman's_ biological father was a rather unimpressive middle manager at the accounting firm where Nae had worked, who'd seduced her and then, upon learning she was pregnant, denied it ever happened.He'd started some rather cruel rumors about Nae.

(Nae had discussed it a few times, when Roman wasn't around.Namor was hoping to gather enough information to find the man and teach him a lesson.Nothing fatal.He wouldn't want to bring down trouble on the Peterson family.Just something unpleasant enough that he would know better than to lie about Nae.)

"Really?"

Namor nodded. "And the other children used to tease me.I wasn't the same color as them, so they'd call me 'pink crab'."_Krada_.In Atlantean, the word somehow had more of a sting.

"What did you do?" Roman asked.

Namor opened his mouth, then paused.He'd mostly gotten into fights, relying on how much stronger than he was than everyone until no one dared to tease him to his face.And he'd survived the dangers Byrrah had repeatedly lead him into due to being incredibly strong, nearly indestructible, and able to breathe air for as long as he wanted. 

Perhaps this was not the _wisest_ advice for a surface-dweller boy.

"I grew strong," he said at last."I developed my abilities, and succeeded at many things.People grew to respect me, and the insults and petty bullying stopped.I found other, kinder people to spend time with.My cousin Namora was fun."He smiled."I miss her."

"A girl?" Roman asked."You played with a girl?"

"Sometimes," said Namor. "I wish I had played with her more. She was cleverer than I was, and nearly as strong, so we could have really good adventures."

Roman looked thoughtful."But what if the mean kids won't leave you alone?"

"If you need to fight, then fight.Your mother would not approve of _unnecessary_ fighting," said Namor."But if you have to protect yourself, she would understand."

"What if I get beat up?"

"That is a danger of starting a fight," said Namor."Sometimes you lose.Sometimes you win, but it hurts.It's good to remember that before starting a fight."

"Thanks."Roman looked down at his shoes again."At school, we're supposed to make Father's Day cards.I know you're not _exactly_ my father, but would you want it?"

Namor smiled."That would be one of my greatest treasures."


	5. Chapter 5

"Who can be _truly_ ready for a pass from Roman the All-Star?"Namor fell back, ready to catch the football.

He caught sight of Randall talking with an unfamiliar man.

The man looked young, but he had no hair. 

Namor started to pull up the hood on his sweatshirt, to cover his gills and ears.

_Don't bother, _said a voice speaking directly to Namor's mind._I know who you are, Prince Namor._

Namor tensed up._Don't,_ he thought._Don't reach into my mind._

The man approached."My apologies, Prince Namor.I was merely attempting to show you my abilities.I understand you have mutant powers as well?"

"Mutant?" Namor wrinkled his nose.In Atlantis, mutants were called "malforms" and driven from the community.They were ugly, at least going by the pictures Namor had seen.(A prince of the blood was not introduced to malforms.)The idea of being one was...unpleasant.

But this man did not _look_ malformed.

Namor was prince of a dead kingdom, half-breed survivor of a lost civilization, taken in on charity by people who were kind, but were profoundly different.The idea of finding people like him, sounded appealing. 

And wings were not seen among Atlanteans _or_ among surface-dwellers. Namor's mother had always insisted they were the result of Namor's hybrid ancestry, but that explanation was...strange.

Among the surface-dwellers, mutations often came on suddenly in adolescence, much like Namor's wings.

"I'm Professor Charles Xavier.I'm a mutant telepath, looking for more mutants.Can we talk?"

Namor nodded.Then he looked over at Roman, who was still clutching the football.

"I have promised young Roman a game of catch," Namor said."We can speak after."

"I'm sure the boy can..."

"We can speak after Roman and I finish the game. Prince Namor has spoken."Namor turned back to Roman."You want to keep playing out here, or go around back?"

-

He and Roman finished the game of catch.

For the rest of his life, as he considered the decisions he made, the one he would always be grateful for was that he'd chosen to finish the game of catch.

The one that would haunt him was saying goodbye to Roman the next day.

-

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know," said Namor."It could be a long time.I can come back and visit after a few months."He looked at Xavier.

Xavier nodded.This grated on Namor. Namor had been giving an _order_, not asking for _permission_.

"When will you be home?"

"It could be a while," said Namor.

Roman was at the age where he didn't like to be seen crying, Namor knew. But his lip was starting to wobble, and he was swallowing hard. "Are you going to come home for good?"

Namor knelt down and put a hand on Roman's shoulder. "I will come back.I promise."

"You're not going to go off and do grown-up stuff and forget about me?"

"I promise, I will never forget you."

Roman nodded and swallowed again.

They hugged. 

And Namor got in the car with Charles Xavier.

-

The amnesia that came was worse than before. He developed a fear of the water, and would become dehydrated and badly confused.He became ragged and unkempt.He grew more dependent than he would like to admit on a surface-dweller named John, who was an alcoholic and unable to take care of himself, but good at getting enough water into Namor to keep him out of hospitals or prisons.

Neither Namor nor John were able to take care of themselves, but together, they managed to stay alive.

Through it all, in the back of Namor's head, there was a voice.It was faint first, and hard to hear. 

It promised Namor that if he could make it through this, if he could endure, there would be a way to fix everything.

There would be a way to save everyone.

-

The young American naval officers were laughing as they walked out of the bar. 

One of them, a Lieutenant, looked familiar.

Namor stepped forward."Roman Peterson?" Was this the correct one? "Roman" was not a common name.

The young man looked up."Who's asking?"

One look at his face, and Namor knew. 

"An old friend."Namor stepped out of the shadows and removed the hat covering his ears.

The other young officers gasped and fled.

Roman didn't. He stood, staring, as if he didn't dare believe his eyes. "I missed you," he said. 

"I lost my memory," said Namor."I would have come for you sooner otherwise."

Roman nodded. "Professor Xavier, he came and told us what happened.He apologized.He tried to help us find you, but you'd flown off somewhere and we didn't know where to look." 

He rushed forward and gave Namor an intense hug."We looked for you.We looked for you so many times."

Namor hugged Roman tightly."And now I have found you."

"I used to volunteer at soup kitchens," said Roman."I'd ask homeless people if they'd seen anyone who looked like you.I took that pictue of you, from when you came to my school play, and showed it around to everyone, in case anyone had seen you.I left notes."He broke the hug and looked Namor in the eye."Were you...Grandpa told me that the time before, when you had amnesia, you ended up drifting.Were you okay this time?"

"I am now," said Namor."And that is all that matters."

_Oh, this one's in the navy?, _went an odd thought in Namor's head._He seems like he could be of use._

Namor shrugged the thought off. Roman did not exist to be of use. Family was not treated that way.

"Are you back for good?" Roman asked.

"I have much to do," said Namor."But I can stay for a little while.I want to hear everything about your life.And this time," said Namor, "when I leave I will come back."He put his hands on Roman's shoulders."We will never be torn apart again."


End file.
